


Clear

by teddysheeranfics



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddysheeranfics/pseuds/teddysheeranfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of Taylor's song "Out of the Woods."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear

Ed was the color red while Taylor saw herself as three different shades of blue. To her, Ed kept things interesting and lighthearted, while she was constantly worried about who saw what and when, and what they would say about them if they did. He would take her face in his hands, their eyes glued to each other’s as he promised that things would be okay, and for a split second, she believed him.  


Taylor remembered the way her head rested comfortably against his chest, and she could hear his heartbeat through his shirt, wondering how they were supposed to make it work. They were on Ed’s couch and lying with each other, him flat on his back while she snuggled up on her right side, half on top of him, half wedged between his side and the back of the sofa. Her ear pressed to where she heard his breath and the thumping inside his ribs, her palm splayed warmly over the right side of his chest where the pound of his heart tickled the tips of her fingers. She felt so safe then and it seemed so simple just being with each other, lying there as if they weren’t household names or known for their awards and accomplishments. It felt normal.

She felt Ed stretch his arm above his head, and he reached over, her blue eyes following his hand when he found the Polaroid camera he used during his tour for taking photos of the crowd. Taylor gave him the idea when they were sat in her kitchen over the summer, two months before the opening night of his new tour. He saw it tucked away in the corner of the kitchen counter and fiddled with it until she had to show him how it worked, snapping a photo before he could prepare. She still has the off-center snapshot taped to the mirror in her bedroom, making him look like a deer in headlights.  


“What’re you doing?” Taylor asked when he reached behind him for the camera, bringing both hands out to get them both in the frame.

Ed pulled one of his famous cat-like faces, while Taylor had a blank expression over hers, still half leaning against Ed and her left hand still splayed against his warm chest when he snapped the photo, the film immediately printing. Ed grabbed it before Taylor could, shaking it with excitement while she tried to pry it away, knowing that it wouldn’t be the most flattering picture of the two of them.

She stayed where she was, lowering her cheek back to his ribs and his laugh echoed in her ear.

“We look cute,” he said, tucking his chin against her forehead, just before he wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her blonde hair.

Taylor kept quiet, just admiring the photo and wondering what would happen if they both stepped out into the world that way. She smiled at the thought of her hand in his, but quickly came to her senses. She knew it would be a frenzy, between the camera flashes and the magazine headlines, and as much as she wanted to believe that they were the only two people in the world, the rest of them were out there behind the door, waiting for them to give themselves up to the hungry wolves.

“It’s like the rest of the world is colorless,” he said, the Polaroid still clutched in his hand. 

Taylor smiled against his chest, bringing her eyes to the photo before glancing down where their bare feet were overlapping each other’s, “they’re not black and white,” she said, “we’re just in screaming color.”

After months of denying accusations of them dating or being anything more than friends, it seemed safe for them to assume that they were out of the woods, but somehow Taylor knew better. She knew that Ed always kept his relationships quiet as best he could, and she knew it was easier for him in the past than it had been for her. She was far more popular, that much was clear, but still it seemed to her that the media itself had this obsession with her love life, and it made her feel violated in a way. It made her feel like she wasn’t anything more than who she dated.

Two weeks after they found themselves dating, just before Christmas, they were sat on the floor of Taylor’s Nashville home, after decorating the Christmas tree together. She noticed he’d gotten a new necklace a while back, and she leaned forward to fish it out of the front of his shirt, smiling while she admired the Maori pendant in her palm, the finish smooth and warm from being hidden against his bare skin.

“This is beautiful,” she smiled, running her thumb along the shades of jade and Ed lifted the necklace over his head, the corners of his mouth pulling up.

“Here,” he said, draping the necklace over her head where it dangled from her neck, “it looks better on you.”

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes fell to her lap, just before she unfolded her legs and stood up, reaching out her hand for Ed to take, and he did, the two of them groaning when he scrambled to his feet.

“I think the tree needs more lights,” Ed said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone since it was glowing brightly with white lights, the room illuminated only from the branches.

“If we put another light on this tree, it’ll be seen from space,” Taylor laughed, turning to grab her phone from the coffee table behind her.

With the flick of her finger, her favorite Christmas playlist started over again, since they’d listened to the entirety of it while they put the tree up. Ed rolled his eyes, trying to fish his own phone from his pocket, but Taylor quickly grabbed his hand, stopping him from switching it.

“Are we trying to break a record with how many times we can listen to the same playlist?”

Taylor shrugged with the raise of her eyebrows, “maybe. But I think this is a good song to dance to.”

Ed tugged his hand away, wagging his head from side to side, “You know I don’t dance, Tay.”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, a smile inching over her mouth, “The whole world has seen me dance, Ed, and I’m not about to let you off that easy. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Ed sighed, his hand back in Taylor’s and her face turned from happy to something that told her that Ed had a pit in his stomach. 

“What’s wrong?”

He kept his eyes on the floor, letting his hand fall away from hers and she crossed her arms, his necklace disappearing behind her arms when she did.

“I just feel like this isn’t going to work,” he said, keeping his voice low to where she could hardly hear him over the music.

The air felt heavy suddenly, and Taylor took a step back, finding the Maori pendant back in her hand, the rope still around her neck.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, walking to her as he reached his hand out, and she turned, catching him off guard as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, shaking her head to put aside the feeling that he was right, “you’re just being honest.”

Ed shrugged after a quick pause, “I don’t want things to be weird if it doesn’t work out. You’re one of my best friends.”

She took his hand, dragging him away from the tree and shoved the coffee table out of the way with her socked foot.

“Help me move the sofa,” she said, bending as she rested her palms against the arm of it, ready to push. 

Ed followed her lead with a smile, standing at the opposite end to pull, both of them laughing when she pushed too hard and almost made him fall. They cleared a space, the hardwood floor beneath them itching to get the two of them to dance. Taylor held her hand out to Ed, her blue eyes shining with the light of the Christmas tree and Ed’s cheeks glowing with embarrassment.

“I’m apologizing in advance if I step on your toes,” he smiled, finally bringing his right hand up to meet hers in his.

“Just shut up and dance with me.”

He pulled her in then, the two of them with smiles plastered over their faces, his feet moving over hers in a way that left her a little surprised and a little impressed. They moved fast at first, but Ed tugged her close, his hands resting neatly at her hips, and hers at his arms, just above his elbows. Their feet worked in synch with each other at a pace that Taylor swore could still time itself, his necklace still hanging from her neck and a look in his eyes that felt to Taylor something like love.

She felt weightless while Ed guided her slowly in circles, her hips swaying under his hands and his forehead pressed to hers. Taylor blushed at how he had to stand on his tip toes to reach his mouth to hers, and before either of them could comprehend exactly what it all meant, Ed pressed his lips to hers, their feet steadying against the floor when he did.

It got to be too much. The headlines, the speculations, the overall chatter and stares they suffered when they were outside the comfort of closed doors. They played it off to the media as rumors, but it could only last so long. On the night it all got too heavy for their shoulders, Taylor waited until one in the morning to pick Ed up at his Nashville home, one that was only a few miles from hers. She fought the tears in her eyes at the sudden realization of how the night would end, knowing she was going to end it once and for all.

Ed hurried down the steps, the sleeves of his hoodie pulled over his hands while he jogged to the car. Butterflies swarmed her stomach when he smiled, dropping down in the car seat and slammed the door shut. 

The second he saw her face, his own stomach plummeted to his feet.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, turning as her chin quivered and saltwater flooded her blue eyes.

“Nothing,” she sniffled, quickly whisking away the unfallen tears from under her eyes. She met his hand over the console, faking a smile before throwing the car in drive.

Ed knew better than to believe her that it was nothing, but he kept quiet while they drove. 

“I know it’s late,” Taylor suddenly spoke up, “but what would you say to me teaching you how to drive tonight?”

She had the overwhelming feeling that it would be one of the last times they’d see each other on good terms, and she wanted nothing more than to have at least one memory she could look back on and smile before it all came crashing down.

“I’d say you’re mental,” he smiled, “but I think you’d make a great instructor.”

Ten minutes later, Taylor pulled down a vacant road and one that she knew well enough to trust that they’d be safe. The two of them giggled like school children while they swapped seats, and Ed clutched the steering wheel, feeling sudden adrenaline rush through his veins. He’d driven before, but not long enough to even say he knew how, and now he was especially nervous knowing Taylor was beside him.

She guided him slowly through it, telling him to press the brake and hold, and she laughed when he hit the accelerator too hard, the two of them jutting forward in their seats and a deep laugh spilling from Ed’s mouth. He got the hang of it faster than she would give him credit for, and they continued along the long road, screaming the songs on the radio while they carried on down the pavement, Ed’s free right hand cupped over Taylor’s while he kept his eyes in front of him.

It happened so fast. The screeching tires, the yelp that shot out of Taylor’s throat when Ed hit the brakes, after seeing a small animal dart across the road. The car skid along the pavement, the tires burning against the road and sending the two of them forward, Ed’s forehead slamming the steering wheel and Taylor’s hands protecting the rest of her. They slapped against the dashboard, Ed’s right hand scrambling to protect her and she flopped against the seat, whacking her head against the headrest.

Everything stopped suddenly and Taylor quickly realized what had happened. She turned to Ed, seeing him wince and lift his head, the sight of blood making her stomach heavy with concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, watching him nod with his hand over the gash above his right eyebrow.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?”

Taylor turned in her seat, slowly reaching forward to pull his hand away to examine the damage, quickly jabbing his chest, “I told you to put your seatbelt on.”

He laughed then, his right eye slammed shut and blood trickling down the side of his face, recalling hearing Taylor nag him about fastening the safety belt. 

They switched spots, Taylor scrambling to find loose napkins in the glove box and pressing them to Ed’s head, letting him lean back against the car seat. This time, she buckled his seatbelt herself.

Ed didn’t want to go to the hospital, but Taylor knew he had to after ten minutes and his head was still bleeding. They argued on the way over, both of them worried about how the story would leak or what it would say. Ed sighed, his right hand still pressed firmly to his forehead, his brain pounding in his skull.

“It’ll be fine, Tay, no paparazzi will be at a hospital at this hour,” he said, and she shook her head.

“It’s not the paparazzi Ed, it’s the people at the hospital. The doctors, the nurses, the actual people who are going to see us walk in. Jesus, I knew we should’ve never even bothered trying.”

Ed straightened up then, still with his palm against the wound, his elbow leaning against the window, “is that all you care about?” he asked, feeling a hint of anger spreading throughout his chest, “Who cares what they have to say, Taylor? As long as we’re happy, who cares what everybody else thinks!”

A laugh fell from her mouth, her left hand lazily gripping the steering wheel.

“You said it first,” she recalled, “the day you put your necklace around my neck. I should’ve listened to you.”

No matter what he said, Taylor knew deep down that it wouldn’t work the way they both wanted. The hospital visit became the least of their worries. Ed ended up with twenty stitches over his eye, and while he sat against the bed after the two of them were left alone, Taylor sat quietly in a chair in the corner of the room, her arms folded over her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Ed said then, breaking the silence in the room and Taylor glanced up, seeing his eyes lowered and his mouth pulled into the slightest frown, “I’m an idiot.”

Taylor sighed and slowly stood up, reaching for his hand while he sat against the crinkled paper, “You’re not an idiot,” she said, and a tear trailed down Ed’s cheek.

“I shouldn’t have ever asked you out,” his voice cracked, “you’ve been so stressed lately over all of it and I’m sorry.”

Taylor felt tears sting her own eyes, seeing him sat there with his orange hair stained red and falling in his eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown and chin quivering. She couldn’t help it, and as much as she fought it, tears pooled her eyes and they fell neatly down her cheeks while she held his hands in hers.

The ride from the hospital was awkwardly silent, the two of them keeping to themselves while Taylor drove. She stopped to drop him off at his house, but he turned to face her, one hand on the door handle, and the other hiding in his hoodie sleeve.

“Why don’t you come in so we can talk?” he said, and although she hesitated for a few seconds, she killed the engine and sighed, ripping the key from the ignition when Ed climbed from the car.

The two of them spilled their guts, sharing their wants and their fears and each of them coming to the conclusion that they both wanted two very different things. Taylor grabbed her purse from the sofa, pushing up when Ed admitted that the stress of being together wasn’t worth the pain it was causing the two of them, and he shot up just the same as she had, ignoring the throbbing behind his eyes and the room tilting on its axis when he stood.

“Where are you going?” he asked, gently reaching forward to take her arm.

Taylor pulled away, “I’m setting you free, Ed,” she told him, turning toward the door, “it’s obvious that you never wanted what I thought we had.”

With her hand on the knob, she pulled the door open, but Ed came forward, grabbing her wrist and slamming the door shut with his other hand. 

Taylor turned then, somehow finding herself standing still under his grip. The early morning sun rose behind the windows, casting a shadow over Ed’s face and making his pale skin burn, the light hitting his eyes in a way that made the blue as clear as a sheet of ice. 

“I won’t let you leave like this,” he said, “I won’t let them ruin us.”

“It’s too late, Ed,” she shook her head, “they already did.”


End file.
